


Welcome to Beacon Hills

by Analinea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Christmas, Christmas market, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic, Protective Stiles, Stiles has magic, Teen Derek, beacon hills is magic, fairy tale, sort of, werewolves are known in beacon hills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: Beacon Hills' Christmas Market is quite famous, and this year Stiles and Derek will find an unexpected gift for each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cami for reading it over and my best friend who doesn't read fics in general for reading mines when I'm in desperate need of help <3  
> Inspired by this [video](https://youtu.be/uDCTGi5MTGY?t=1m5s)
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS <3

Beacon Hills was, by all standards, a small town. It stood at the very center of deep, dark woods, a single road granting access to it.

Despite being small, anyone who had ever visited could say that their annual Christmas market was gigantic. Somehow, though, they couldn’t give more details about it: what was sold, how were the people they met, or even how they found themselves there in the first place. No outsider ever came upon the way to Beacon Hills consciously during the month of December, and no outsider ever thought to look for it at any other time of the year.

There were rumors, still, stories passed down from grandparents to children, whispered between kids in the late hours of the night when they should have been asleep. They spoke of magic woven in the very ground Beacon Hills was built upon, creatures of legends that walked among humans; it was said that a family as old as the forest hiding the town was protecting it. And that the trees would open for those in need.

And if you were allowed on this road, diving between trees so tall the light of day barely touched the floor, you knew you were on the right path thanks only to one thing: the big, shiny green sign announcing,

“Welcome to Beacon Hills,

Home of 1025 happy people

and two grouches”

⸸

 

Stiles loved living in Beacon Hills. He loved it every day of the year, but he particularly loved it when Christmas came around. There was something special in the atmosphere, in the smiles, people from everywhere gathering as soon as the market opened, fairy lights turned on as soon as the sun disappeared behind the tree line but stars still visible in the dark sky.

No one could tell how many stalls there were in the market, almost as if the count changed from day to day. The shops were set in small wooden chalets, creating temporary streets where you could find almost anything from exotic food to jewelry, traditional items from all over the world, charms and potions. An exit always coincidentally appeared right when you found yourself thinking you would like to go home.

Stiles wandered around every chance he got, talking to new and old faces, stopping for roasted chestnuts and hot wine with cinnamon. When he wasn’t looking for gifts, he was running his own small business: his spells were famous all year long but he always made new and original products for Christmas.

And when he wasn’t walking around or tending to his customers, there was one place and one time you were sure to find him: the Hale stall when one Derek Hale was on duty. 

The Hale family went back all the way to Beacon Hills’ foundation. It counted so many members no one could be sure how many of them were actually direct relatives, and the big house in the woods was always full of people coming and going. And among the mass of younglings running around, there were the three kids of Talia, head of the Hales.

Derek, the middle one, shared some of his classes and most of his free time with Stiles.

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles whined shamelessly, making Derek frown so hard it looked like he only had one big eyebrow, “I’m so tired from enchanting those origami birds and dad confiscated all my money after I bought my new hat.”

Derek swatted one of said origamis from where it was flying in front of his face and narrowed his eyes at the orange and blue beanie made of thick wool. “He made the right decision, it’s hideous.”

“It’s _magic_ ,” Stiles said for the hundredth time this day, suspiciously waving his hand to make the piece of cake he was trying to steal levitate his way. Gran’s almond cakes were a delight than Stiles had begged for all year without success. No amount of bribery could make her bake it at any other time than Christmas.

“Oh yeah?” Derek raised one eyebrow, catching the piece of cake before it could go too far and putting it back with the rest, “What does it do? Make you even more annoying?”

Stiles chuckled, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, really,” then he straightened and excitedly explained, “It’s making me more attractive, stupid Sourwolf!”

“Right. Now that you said it, I can totally see it,” Derek deadpanned. He desperately fought the blush from rising to his cheeks, because he couldn’t let Stiles know how much he found him attractive even without the magical hat -especially without the magical hat, dear Hekate was it ugly.

“Really?” Stiles enthusiastically exclaimed, to what Derek made a face.

“No.” He was very good at hiding his crush.

Stiles pouted and sighed dramatically, making Derek stare at the boy’s lips. “You’re so mean…,” he complained, “I’m pretty sure you owe me a free piece of cake to make it up to me,” he looked at Derek through his eyelashes and blinked slowly.

Derek wanted to say no, he really did. He opened his mouth to say those two letters in that particular order, but somehow he heard himself say, “Okay.” He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to slap himself. It was common knowledge that he was unable to resist Stiles very long, as proven by the various trouble it put him into.

Stiles’ smile was blinding, when he looked back from wrapping up the cake, and he couldn’t help but return it. Stiles, seeing this and knowing how hard it was to get a smile from Derek, felt his cheeks flaming up. He was on his way to become a powerful mage, but somehow he was incapable of stopping his crush from showing. It didn’t seem to matter seeing as Derek never noticed or cared.

Still, making Derek smile was as hard as finding Beacon Hills in the middle of August -even town’s people couldn’t find the road back- and Stiles prided himself in succeeding more times than not, and more often than anybody else.

Silence fell between them as Stiles leaned his back against the stall and ate his cake, both looking as people milled about and both trying not to think too much on their seemingly unrequited crush. Soon enough, the cake was gone and Stiles’ phone ringed to signal that he needed to get back to work.

“I…have to go,” he hesitantly said, pointing over his shoulder and walking backwards. “See you at the games?”

Derek nodded. His own shift was almost over, Peter due to come back in five minutes, so he could always go to see the newest Stilinski’s Christmas Wonders and offer to walk together to the games.

It became somewhat of a tradition for Derek to buy one of Stiles’ creation every year: he had six of them, and that obviously wasn’t counting the weird birthday presents Stiles had made him since kindergarten. He still had that Barbie head from sixth grade that winked at inappropriate jokes, even if it creeped him out so much he put it in a box that he put in another box that he threw in the back of his closet.

Derek was so impatient to leave that he noticed every excruciating minute of Peter being late, all thirty of them, meaning Derek missed the beginning of the games and could definitely not do anything else but look for Stiles in the crowd when he got there.

The big wooden stage at the center of the market was used for many events (including that one time Stiles and Erica reenacted some obscure Batman and Catwoman scene, and Derek hadn’t. Been. Jealous. At all.), but the most important was the games.

They attracted the most people and were fun to watch. Arm wrestling in categories, pie eating, pie throwing, balancing of trunks on pinky fingers -for giants and the like only- juggling, hologram making, keeping a straight face while the crowd yelled jokes, and number of other very creative activities.

Derek spotted Stiles at the front, cheering on Melissa McCall and her mad knife throwing skills. Scott was on stage, looking at ease in front of the big wooden board already covered in knives. Jordan Parrish announced the winner -Melissa- just as Derek joined Stiles, wincing when the human started to scream his throat out.

The human’s enthusiasm still made him smile; Stiles jumping up and down, hat lost and hair sticking up in every direction, eyes glowing in the golden light coming from the stage. He was beautiful.

“And now, for the traditional Christmas grouch vote, let me call on stage…,” Parrish paused, even if everyone knew exactly who presented the results, “Stiles Stilinski!” he yelled, drawing out the ‘i’s as if he was on TV.

Stiles jumped on stage and waved at the crowd, totally at ease with the attention in a way that always made Derek envious. But Stiles was used to it: his spells were famous enough that everyone always stared at him on the street, and had been presenting the grouch vote since he could talk. People said that it was because even the town’s grouches were terrified of him; the kid set stuff on fire when he was barely two months old.

“Hello Beacon Hills!” he exclaimed, the absence of a microphone in his hand not keeping his voice from being heard by everyone. He started his usual speech, moving like he owned the stage, the town, and the people in it.

“This year, we have an unexpected development,” he said like a secret, and the plaza became eerily quiet at that. There were only ever two grouches in Beacon Hills, the same every year. Old alchemist Elric, who once yelled at Isaac just for being so tall, and Poindexter though he admittedly wasn’t so much a grouch than always complaining about some guy called Nursey.

“So I’m going to go over the usual results real quick, especially since we all know our two favorite grouches won’t be here tonight!” Everyone laughed and watched as Stiles opened the first two envelopes and called the first two names.

“And now, for the surprise,” Stiles announced, brandishing the final envelope, tension filling the air. Derek found all of it profoundly ridiculous, but Stiles enjoyed it so much he never said anything. And the teen sure was loving dragging things out as much as he could for dramatic effect, slowly pulling out the piece of paper, widening his eyes as he read the name on it. He chuckled.

“Let me call on stage our new celebrity, he’s here tonight among you, mere happy people, you know him, you love him, ladies and gentlemen, Derek! Hale!”

Derek froze in place, crowd cheering around him and pushing him on stage.

“Come on, Sourwolf,” Stiles used his old nickname for Derek, knowing it would put him at ease, “give us your best scowl.”

Derek, felt strangely not uncomfortable at all as he made a face and the crowd applauded, and he wondered if it was Stiles’ presence with him that made him more relaxed. He knew Stiles wouldn’t make fun of his and the way he took his hand and looked at him with a gentle smile was proof of that.

“Now, dear public, let me tell you a secret!” Stiles continued in a fake whisper, “Our Derek here might look and act like a grouch most of the time, but he’s a secret softy,” someone sounding like Isaac whooped and Stiles finished louder, “and with that, everyone, we’re leaving you to the rest of the show!”

Stiles pulled Derek by the hand, and Derek could only focus on the warmth emanating from the point of contact.

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked, “You look like you saw a ghost,” he added, feeling a surge of tenderness to the boy next to him. The vote was fun, and he knew Derek wouldn’t be offended by it, but he looked like he was lost in thoughts.

“Yeah,” Derek chuckled, “still a bit dizzy because of all the clapping and whistling. I just–” he stopped himself and looked up from their joined hands to look around in panic.

“What?” Stiles urgently asked, following Derek with his eyes.

“Nana! My Nana is here!” Derek replied frantically, turning on the spot in his search for a hiding place but finding none. It would be useless anyway, to try and hide from his grandmother.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles whispered, understanding the urgency. Unlike Gran Hale, who lived in Beacon Hills, Derek’s Nana had a big mansion on a huge property in the middle of nowhere, thankfully on the other end of the country. Her favorite pastime when she was visiting was harassing her grandchildren with what she deemed to be “a proper life style”. For Derek, in the last two years, that translated by “did you find yourself a proper girl?”

“Stiles,” Derek pleaded, grasping Stiles by the shoulders “don’t let her make me spend the day with one of her horrible friend’s kids again. Teleport us somewhere or something!”

“Too late,” Stiles breathed out, and they both turned slowly to the elegant woman coming their way.

“Hello, Nana!” Derek greeted with a trembling voice.

“Hello, Derek,” she started, glancing at Stiles in distaste, “Stiles,” she sniffed condescendingly, “I see you’ve made quite an impression back there,” she continued with an undertone of displeasure in her voice. “I’m not sure your new… _title_ will make people your age more inclined to approach you.”

“Oh, but he doesn’t need to, Mrs Hale,” Stiles shot back, words dripping with a fake politeness that was just at the edge of disrespect, “Derek already has plenty of friends.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Friends are not everything, Mr Stilinski,” she coldly replied, and Derek could already hear her usual tirade on the importance of marriage and the perpetuation of the Hale name, but before she could even open her mouth, Stiles interrupted her.

“No, you’re right, that’s why he also has _me_ ,” and Derek would be impressed at the anger in his voice -no one spoke to Nana like that- if he wasn’t still trying to process what was happening. Before his brain came up with an answer, Stiles had his arm around his shoulders and pushed him around so they turned their back on Nana on walked away.

Derek could feel his grandmother rage but also, thankfully, he could hear his mom calming her down.

“Stiles, are you crazy?” Derek asked in a high pitched voice when they were a few feet away, “She’s gonna kill you!”

“Let her try!” Stiles yelled in answer like he wanted Nana to hear, “She has no right to treat you like this every year, like you’re her possession and she can boss you around!” He took a deep breath and kept going with more calm, “It’s your private life, Derek, and if you don’t want to date anyone right now you’re allowed to. I shouldn’t even have to fake being your boyfriend, she should learn to respect your wishes, dammit!”

Stiles was panting by the end of his rant, and Derek was staring in wonder at this beautiful boy that stood up for him.

“Stiles, it’s alright,” he softly said, making them stop so he could face Stiles, “and I do want to date someone I–” he hesitated, looking away. His Gran always said _Christmas is the best time to be honest_. He wasn’t really sure about that, but right now still seemed like the right moment to finally tell the truth.

When he turned back to Stiles, he saw him look devastated for a split second before Stiles schooled his features and smiled back. It gave him the courage to continue, thinking back on all the times his sisters told him Stiles had a crush on him and he wouldn’t believe them.

“I want us to be real boyfriends,” he quickly confessed, not breaking eye contact with Stiles, needing to know. Stiles eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. His scent went from residual anger to shock and slowly turned to something sweet, like delight.

“You– I– Oh my– Derek?” he stammered, and Derek was ready to backtrack and play it off, but Stiles started laughing and crying at the same time. “Me too!” he exclaimed, “I want that too! God, I thought–” he stopped himself and jumped to hug the life out of Derek, who started laughing in happiness too.

A loud cheer from the other side of the stage came through the curtains separating them for it, and Derek frowned, suddenly realizing that things had been awfully quiet back there in the last few minutes.

“Stiles?” came the Sheriff’s voice from behind them. They both turned to see his amused expression. “Son, you, uh…,” he chuckled, “you forgot the broadcasting spell.”

“The broa–” Stiles started before he stopped himself, realization dawning on him. “Oh. Oh!” He became bright red, and it took Derek a few more seconds to understand. Then he felt his cheeks burn. The whole market probably heard not only the confrontation with Nana, but also their confessions. This was going to be so embarrassing…

Stiles muttered a few words under his breath, probably to end the spell, and his dad patted them on the shoulders. “I’ll give you a five minutes head start before everyone start chasing you,” he winked at them, and pulled them into a hug before pushing them gently away. “Go!”

Stiles took Derek’s hand in his and started running, Derek feeling the warmth of the touch spreading to his heart. They started laughing again, Derek’s cheek hurting from all the smiling. Before he knew it, they stopped.

Stiles turned to him. “It’s my hiding place,” he shyly explained, and Derek gaped at how beautiful the clearing they were in was; white trunks and silver leaves, the sound of a stream hidden in the grass, fireflies lazily dancing in the air.

 He didn’t really get how they ended up here when they’d only been running for a minute, but it didn’t really matter. All he could think about was Stiles, beautiful in the soft light that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, eyes shining gold and body radiating power and magic.

He smiled and took Stiles’ other hand before pulling until they were flushed together.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered, then feeling bold after tonight he added, “you’re beautiful,” and leaned halfway between them, leaving the final choice to Stiles.

Stiles let out a trembling breath, inclining his head slightly and closing the space between them, sealing their lips together. They were both shaking with nerves and adrenaline. This was so sudden and at the same time they had been waiting for it for so long, thinking the other would never want it too.

Their hearts were beating in sync a rapid rhythm, time slowed down and a warm breeze enveloped them. All sounds and feels were lost to them, though, senses zeroed in the other’s scent, the other’s soft lips, and the happiness under their skin. It wasn’t the most perfect of kisses. But then, to them it was.

⸸

 

In the morning, a young man from another town found himself driving through the woods with no real memory of how he came to be on this road. He slowed down when approaching the big green sign as to read the name of the town he was heading to. The sign was unusual to say the least, but maybe the most surprising part was the last line.

“Welcome to Beacon Hills,

Home of 1024 happy people

two grouches

and one secretly soft Sourwolf”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll beg for kudos and comments if I need to! Please don't make me? :D  
> Also on [tumblr](http://kinsbournescream.tumblr.com)  
> Second chapter is a screen of the inspiration for the story!


	2. Inspiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd include the original tweet as seen in the video that inspired the story, because idk, I still find it funny haha


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